


got the bit between your teeth

by deepestfathoms



Category: Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King
Genre: Angst, Animal Attack, Blood and Gore, Death, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, a short thing about this sweet girl, being trampled doesn’t sound fun, poor baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29996736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestfathoms/pseuds/deepestfathoms
Summary: this wasn’t supposed to happen
Kudos: 4





	got the bit between your teeth

the young jockey had felt pain before. her dear horse had stepped on her feet a number of times, so much so that she was sure the bones were made of steel at this point. she’d also been bitten, knocked over, even scratched with one of his hooves- he was a very ill-tempered horse. but, like every injury she had endured over the course of her young life, whether it be equestrian-based or not, she dealt with it and moved on.

however, nothing could prepare her from the pain of being trampled.

her trainer, some ratty man her parents had probably pulled out of their ass, said it was okay to whip horses during races! do what you need to do to win! so she did because she always followed the rules, she was always a good girl.

her horse did not like that.

the ache of being bucked off of a moving horse wasn’t anything new, but the hoof colliding with her jaw was. her stallion had reared up in reaction to the lashing and jabbed her straight in the mouth after she had fallen. it was done with enough force to make her see stars, but not hard enough to knock her out.

she wished it had.

even in her daze, the little jockey could feel the next hoof stab right into her belly, and that was enough to rip a scream from her throat. that scream was quickly silenced by another hoof, then another, then another, then another, and she was was beginning to feel like Mufasa from The Lion King but it was much more brutal because she could see her blood seeping through her expensive red and white uniform and hear the awful crunching of her bones- first her femur, then her clavicle, then her ribs- and feel a deep heat spread across her midsection as her skin tore and the speeding horses brought out her organs with their advance in the race.

this shouldn’t happen. this shouldn’t be happening. this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. she was supposed to win this race and then go onto the championship and win that, too, and become the world’s greatest jockey! she was supposed to make her parents proud! she was supposed to be something people remembered!

this wasn’t the way things were supposed to go. and yet, they were.

the little jockey screamed and cried, but blood and dirt filled her mouth, choking her, and she couldn’t, she couldn’t, and it hurt so bad, so fucking bad, and she wanted her mom. mom’s were supposed to make the pain go away, right? maybe her mother would be able to nurse her black bruises, heal her broken bones, put her strewn intestines back where they belonged.

did her mom even come to this race? or was she busy again?

she thought she could hear the announcer screaming in a panic over the speakers, but she didn’t know for sure. the crunching of bones and shrieking of horses blocked out a lot of things. she had never heard anything more terrifying than the screeching of restless thoroughbreds.

looking up dazedly, the little jockey could see that her uniform was red. completely red. horses were beginning to circle her like vultures, and the sunlight cast behind them made them look malicious and hungry. she whimpered and tried to crawl away, but she couldn’t move.

her stallion was leering at her from a distance. his white legs were spattered with blood. her blood. the jockey sobbed when she saw him because he was supposed to be her best friend. they were supposed to be the dynamic rider-horse duo! but he hurt her. he hurt her.

he…killed her.

the jockey’s mind grew fuzzy. her helmet felt like it weighed a ton; at least it did its job and protected her brain. her head thunked down into a dirt and she breathed heavily, throat thick with blood.

no. _no_. this wasn’t supposed to happen! she had to stay awake! she could survive this! she could— were those her small intestines…?

the jockey let out an unbidden, gargled moan. she wept weakly on the track and closed her eyes, trying to comfort herself with a fantasy she often thought about when trying to sleep at night- being cheered on by an adoring crowd while she and her trusty steed zipped by every competitor, none of them able to beat their speed. they were the best. people loved them. people loved…

_don’t look, Mama. don’t look._

_help me_

_did you seen me running this time? are you proud?_

_Mama?_

her eyes didn’t open back up.


End file.
